The Seven Deadly Sins
by esbethwrites
Summary: The Devil doesn't come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you've ever wished for. (Royai prompts. Rating to change in the future).
1. Envy

**A/N: I wanted prompts to write Royai moments, and I thought, hey! I'll do the seven deadly sins! That's fitting, right?**

**Anyway, first prompt is Envy. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>ENVY<strong>

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><p>Hawkeye's hair was longer now, she left it unpinned today, as it cascaded smoothly past her shoulders.<p>

Roy's fingers coiled tensely around the handle of his coffee mug. His eyes followed the figure of his diligent Lieutenant, as she waited patiently in line for breakfast at the mess hall.

The Lieutenant was always beautiful, but now, her long locks of golden hair stood out in striking contrast against the uniformly, short-cropped hairstyles of the, largely male, military.

The Colonel found it difficult not to steal glances, but he soon realized, his wasn't the only pair of eyes trained on the Lieutenant.

Roy's obsidian eyes slanted dangerously as it keenly tracked Hawkeye…

…and the man that followed closely behind her.

He drummed his fingers with agitation, the food on his tray was left untouched, and growing colder.

_He's too close_. Roy internally seethed.

He watched the man shyly tap Hawkeye's shoulder in greeting.

The Lieutenant turned around, and her eyes lit up in recognition. Roy noted the small smile that played on her lips, as they began to chat companionably while moving further in line.

They seemed to know one another. The attractive, sandy haired man looked as if he was telling a story to the Lieutenant, his hands moved with lively animation, and his face grinned widely.

As the pair acquired breakfast, they moved to part ways, but just before he left, the man leaned closer to Hawkeye, and intently brushed a small curtain of hair over the shell of her ear.

It was intimate.

_Too intimate._

The Colonel turned away angrily, as a lance of jealousy pierced him. He felt its contagion seep and spread outward, effusing his body with a possessive bitterness that left him feeling helpless and resentful.

A few minutes later, the Lieutenant moved towards the Colonel, setting her tray down on the table in front of him.

"Your _hair_ isn't up," Roy tersely noted, keenly aware of how ridiculous the inane comment was.

Hawkeye stared at him with confusion before carefully replying, "No, sir."

The Lieutenant was aware that something was _off_. She slowly lowered herself in the seat across from him.

"Is everything alright, sir?"

"Everything's _fine_," came his clipped response.

The Flame Alchemist threw back the rest of his coffee too quickly, and it scalded uncomfortably down his throat.


	2. Sloth

**A/N: Thank you to my lovely reviewers! ^)^ Continuing on with the series - Sloth.**

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><p><strong>SLOTH<strong>

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><p>Roy found himself leaning bodily against the inside of a telephone booth. The droplets of rain condensed and streaked lazily down the panes of glass.<p>

He drew the back of his hand against his lips, where the faint taste of liquor lingered.

The ground gently swayed, and the _pitter patte_r of rain was dampened by the walled confines of the booth.

His brow furrowed in strained recollection.

He vaguely remembered walking into the soft night drizzle and onto the illuminated streets of downtown Central.

He vaguely remembered the faint press of a kiss from some nameless, faceless woman, and the accompanying sink of guilt and loneliness that crept into his gut.

He vaguely remembered turning the woman away, the immediate sound of a sharp _tsk!,_ and the click of his own footsteps as he left the bar.

The Colonel now leaned against the cold, glass pane of the booth while his right arm fished in his pockets for change. His eyelids curved oppressively, struggling to stay open, as he plucked the receiver off the cradle. The clink of change worked its way down the metallic interior, and he listlessly tugged at the numbers of the rotary.

It began to ring.

After several long moments, the tired, strained voice of the Lieutenant pushed through his earpiece.

"_Hello_…?" She answered, sleep still clinging to her voice.

His tongue felt heavy, as he struggled through his words. "Lieutenant…"

A pause stretched, as Hawkeye registered the familiar sound of Mustang's voice. A ragged inhale could be heard, before she expelled it with a sigh.

"I'll be there soon. Wait there, Colonel."

The distinct click at the end of the line, signaled the end of the conversation.

Roy kept the receiver cradled to his ear.

"...I love you." He finished slowly.


	3. Gluttony

**A/N: Hehe, I know you guys are waiting patiently for the "M" portions of these drabbles. In due time...dear readers...in due time.**

**Enjoy the next prompt - Gluttony!**

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><p><strong>GLUTTONY<strong>

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><p>A sharp, clinical smell invaded the rooms and hallways of the recovery ward, where Roy Mustang leaned uncomfortably against the stiff mattress of his hospital bed.<p>

Under normal circumstances, the unexpected hospital stay would have left the Colonel in an impossibly dour mood.

Today, however, Mustang was positively beaming with an almost gleeful happiness, as he delightedly chewed the sweet, crisp flavor of the apple slice that Hawkeye had just fed him, as she sat watchfully at his bedside.

He opened his mouth, beckoning for more.

The Lieutenant arched an eyebrow with mild surprise.

"Colonel, you've already had _three_."

Roy ostensibly kept his mouth open and waited, leaving no room for argument.

Riza shook her head and smiled. Wordlessly, she plucked another apple from the basket at her side, and patiently cut another slice.

Mustang would never admit that he was _beyond_ full, but the warmth of her attention made him idly wish that he could do this forever.

Hawkeye leaned forward, her fingers held the edge of the slice, pushing it against his lips. He took a bite that claimed half of the proffered fruit.

In a bold move, befitting Roy Mustang, he took hold of her hand, allowing his lips to overtake both the remaining apple and the tips of her fingers, his tongue deliberately swept against them.

The Lieutenant jerked her hand back abruptly, flushed, and looking scandalized.

The Colonel would have laughed, but under Hawkeye's sharp, dubious glare, it was enough for him to settle for a cheeky grin instead.

He chewed, swallowed, and opened his mouth again, patiently waiting for another slice.


	4. Greed

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews, favs, and follows! I heart you all!**

**Dotdotdot - Special thanks to you for supporting each chapter! To answer your question, I personally like to follow FMAB's storyline - but the Gluttony prompt was definitely inspired by the trailing scenes in FMA. I will _devour_ all Royai canon, across all space and time! Haha :)**

**Next prompt, Greed. I was inspired by a headcanon I read, that I've _completely_ adopted. Roy is the one who tries to escalate the relationship between the two of them, but Riza is the one who keeps them in line and professional.**

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><p><strong>GREED<strong>

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><p>In a world of shifting variables, Colonel Roy Mustang and Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye were constants.<p>

The nature of their relationship was a juicy source of office gossip, and a welcome diversion for staff during the humdrum monotony of administrative work.

Innocuous touches, sidelong glances, and words that held deeper meaning than pretense ought to have allowed, were observed, analyzed, and re-analyzed to the point of exhaustion.

Whatever true feelings the pair held for each other, was obfuscated by a curtain of rigid military regulations, and crisp, unyielding blue uniforms.

In spite of the obvious closeness between the Colonel and the Lieutenant, an invisible barrier prevailed between them.

A demarcation. A line that couldn't, _shouldn't_ be crossed.

It didn't stop Roy from skirting around the edges, daringly, searchingly. Trying to coax some signal from the Lieutenant, permission.

In the trailing hours of dusk, the office had emptied, save the two of them, and he tried again.

His fingers gently threaded through her golden hair, prompting her to turn around. His free hand moved atop her own, gently pressing her palm to his chest. Obsidian eyes beckoned for her to give him more, to meet him halfway.

Perhaps she did lean forward slightly, imperceptibly, but she couldn't give him what he wanted.

Cautious mahogany eyes met his own, a trailing note of sadness were hidden in the depths.

They looked to each other, something unspoken and understood passed between them.

Roy read her gaze, and it was all he could do to channel wordless apologies.

To maintain appearances, the Lieutenant straightened the lapels of the Colonel's uniform. Her hands smoothed against the fabric, and lingered a beat longer than needed.

Hawkeye had sacrificed so much for him, her dreams, her goals, her secrets, her future. All were laid prone on the altar of his ambitions, but still he wanted more.

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Of course, sir."

Having given him so much, still, he wanted more.


	5. Wrath

**A/N:** Ack! It's been so long since I've updated, so sorry! I'm still going to finish this series, and I already have "Lust" on the way ;)

Thank you _SO, so_ much for the kind reviews! It really motivated me to continue, so I appreciate your support! Yay, Royai!

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><p><strong>WRATH<strong>

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><p><em>Blind. <em>

It was just as well, thought Mustang, as he absently stared into a field of milky white.

He impatiently gripped and tugged away the suffocating hospital sheets that trapped his legs, freeing them into the cool air.

Released from the oppressive confines, he leaned back against the upright hospital mattress, and took measured blinks, as he surveyed the varying levels of brightness and darkness within the desolate landscape.

A strained exhale pushed past his lips, as he somberly reflected on the events of the past few days.

In the frenzied chaos of the Promised Day, it was nothing short of miraculous, that the far-sighted planning and actions of a handful of individuals were able to save a nation and avert disaster.

His face darkened, as he reflected on his own limited contribution in the wake of it all. The frustration of his inadequacy bubbled harshly inside of him.

Having devoted so much of his life to climbing the ranks, he had clung to the naive notion that it would somehow empower him with the ability to protect everyone beneath him.

It was a reckless and foolish belief. One that had almost cost him dearly.

He closed his eyes and retreated into the darkened shelter of his lids.

_Fragile. _He realized.

Everything and everyone around him was so _damn _fragile.

Roy shifted in discomfort, as lingering spasms of pain twitched in his shoulders. Unwittingly the pain brought about the sobering memory of his arms being yanked back painfully, as powerful hands gripped and held him in place. The chilling sound of Hawkeye's muted cry of pain echoed hauntingly, and the glazed, backward roll of her eyes were forever seared into his memory.

He remembered watching the irreverent tug of his Lieutenant's motionless body, as she was carelessly dragged in front of him. Weeping trails of blood streamed openly from her neck, and pooled against the ground.

He nearly choked under the desperate, helpless swell of fury. A scream tore from his throat, burning with bile and rage.

"You bastard! _I'll kill you!_"

The events of what happened next were a blur, as a cacophony of shouting swelled beneath the the bone-cracking clash of limbs. All Roy remembered was the sharp, burst of flames that erupted from his fingertips, and his mind screaming for his legs to run faster towards Hawkeye.

When he managed to pull her into his arms, he remembered gripping her so close and tight, he wouldn't have believed it possible for her to be taken anywhere else. Yet she was dying, slipping away beneath his arms, between his fingertips. Red continued to stain, and swell against her coat. He nearly doubled over at the realization that he was losing her, and his gut was stabbed with a fierce, lonely pain, that he felt as if he were dying with her.

The red grew.

Roy blinked harshly, working to clear his mind's eye until he once again saw nothing but a yawning expanse of white.

The haunted recollections and the emptiness of the landscape in front of him left him suddenly fearful, and he shifted restlessly on the mattress.

"Lieutenant?" Roy questioned uncertainly, as he blindly stretched an arm out in the direction of Hawkeye's bed.

The cool air wafted emptily through his fingers, until the warm pads of Riza's fingertips reached out, and reassuringly brushed against his own.

"I'm here, Colonel." came Riza's soft reply.

Roy turned to face her. The blank canvas of his eyes painted Hawkeye's outline, and the consoling mahogany gaze that met his own.

Her voice was delicate and strained, but she was _alive_.

The warmth of her fingertips confirmed it.

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with a grateful realization, that her steadying presence meant everything to him. She was his anchor, and even in the landscape of nothingness, behind the static, white curtain of his blindness was _her_, and the world was worth fighting for because she was still in it.

He now saw things clearly, and Roy smiled at the irony.

His fingers gripped, and tightened around her own.


End file.
